


and it's a lesson that we're learning

by kindlingchild



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Cuddling, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Idiots in Love, M/M, Waking Up, baz in love and happy yes, simon also very happy my beautiful sunshine boy, yes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-06-30 23:50:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15762285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kindlingchild/pseuds/kindlingchild
Summary: “Why do you still taste like cherries and what not when you just wake up?” Simon raises an eyebrow at me quizzically, “What? Like, do you brush your teeth in your sleep or something?”“Maybe it’s the vampire thing,” I give him a half-smile because he rolls his eyes as he usually does when I reply his stupid questions, “You still taste like sour cherry scones. Do you eat them in your sleep?”Simon groans and half-heartedly pushes me away, the corner of his lips turning upward slightly as he turns away from me.





	and it's a lesson that we're learning

**Author's Note:**

> hi i've been a fan of carry on since 2015 dont @ me for only writing this now lmao  
> i was young and very dumb in 2015 im Better now so here we go  
> title from "forever" by lewis watson

**baz**

His freckles look gorgeous in the morning light.

The sunlight is leaking into the room from the gap between the curtains, and it falls onto his face like he’s an angel who has descended from the heavens.

In more ways that one, I suppose he is. He’s got bright red wings and a tail, for starters, but he’s also got a heart of pure gold. Maybe he was the Chosen One because he was secretly a fallen angel all along— I wouldn’t be surprised.

I trace his cheekbones with my thumb. They’re defined yet not too much, and my hand moves down to his jaw, which is chiseled and sharp in all the right ways.

His skin is a darker olive today, probably since he accompanier Bunce to the beach during the week I was away visiting my family  _ (they had sent pictures— Simon in beach shorts is now my phone background, not that he’d ever know) _ .

I shift slightly, careful not to wake him, and I press a kiss to his forehead. He’s warm, like usual, and after I kiss his forehead he moves closer, curling up and nuzzling his head into my chest. 

I’m so cold, and he’s so warm. 

And so, so alive.

 

 

**simon**

I blink my eyes open.

The sun is shining directly in my eyes, and I turn to smash my head into my pillow. I can hear Baz scoff beside me, evidently amused, and I wonder how long he’s been awake.

“Sun,” I grumble, and I know he’s rolling his eyes as he whispers a spell and the curtains close properly.

“Better, your highness?” His voice is thick with a mix of amusement and absolute sarcasm, but it’s too early in the morning for me to reply something even remotely close to Basilton Pitch’s usual wit, so I settle for turning over and shifting closer to him.

“Mmph,” I nod, and I can feel his muscles relax as I tangle my legs with his, and he drapes his arms loosely around me, pressing a kiss onto my head.

I look up at him, and his eyes are glistening. They’re sharp and alert, yet as he catches me staring at him they soften and fill with fondness. 

Baz’s eyes are icy grey with flecks of emerald green, like some kind of snow-filled mountain scape with oddly lush green trees. I told him that once—  _ “You’re ridiculous, Snow,” _ he had replied while rolling his eyes, but he had also just fed on a few rats, so the flush in his cheeks told me otherwise.

“Good morning, love.” He smiled down at me, and I love Baz smiling like that. It’s soft and gentle and genuine, and he’s got this single dimple in his left cheek that I like to poke. 

I lean up and press a kiss to his lips. He still tastes like cherry and bergamot, despite it being the morning and him having just woken up.

Damn him for being so fucking perfect.

 

**baz**

He crinkles his nose when he pulls away, gently hitting my cheek with a frown.

“Why do you still taste like cherries and what not when you just wake up?” Simon raises an eyebrow at me quizzically, “What? Like, do you brush your teeth in your sleep or something?”

“Maybe it’s the vampire thing,” I give him a half-smile because he rolls his eyes as he usually does when I reply his stupid questions, “You still taste like sour cherry scones. Do you eat them in your sleep?”

Simon groans and half-heartedly pushes me away, the corner of his lips turning upward slightly as he turns away from me.

I grin wickedly as an idea pops into my head, and I pick up my wand from the bedside table and point it at the curtains once more, spelling them completely open. 

Simon hisses the minute the sunlight hits his back, grabbing a pillow and turning back over to face me before slamming the pillow onto me.

“Baz!” He groans, and I laugh, because Simon Snow is lying beside me with a sorry attempt at a frown plastered across his face, the corners of his lips slowly turning upwards, while his icy blue eyes remain amused and soft the whole time. 

I feel something leathery wrap around my ankle before something sharp digs into my skin, and I grab the same pillow that Simon used to hit me, and I hit him back. He grabs me with his tail every time because he knows it annoys me, with how he absolutely refuses to let go, and it feels like the personification of a ball and chain.

He stretches out one of his wings and uses it to block my attempt to hit him, and I scoff, because the whole situation is ridiculous, and Simon Snow is ridiculous. His wing moves away slightly and there’s a grin spread across his face, and it goes up to his beautiful eyes, and the sun pouring in from the window is hitting him at all the right angles and makes him look like some sort of magazine cover model  _ (not that he already doesn’t, but his features are being accentuated and I don’t think it’s very good for me). _

I pause for a second— it’s like a shock whenever I see him like this. Happy and uninjured, safe and playing around with me. All those years of pining makes every moment with him seem like a dream, so much so that moments like these get overwhelmingly jarring.

He looks at me and he’s laughing, and he reaches a hand up to my cheek and traces his thumb over my cheekbone, like I did prior to his waking.

And then he’s not laughing anymore, but he’s still smiling, and his eyes are full of love I never thought I’d ever get to see  _ (I see it every day, it feels like I’m dreaming). _

“I love you,” he whispers, and I shut my eyes because I feel particularly emotional today, and I think I might cry. 

“I love you too,” I whisper back, and the room goes silent for awhile. But it’s a comfortable silence. It’s a silence I don’t mind, and neither does he.

I open my eyes again and Simon Snow is staring at me like I’m the world.

I’m hopelessly in love with him.

 

**simon**

I don’t know why it took me so long to realise.

He always looked at me like this, like he was about to attack— but I don’t associate with attacks anymore.

His gaze is sharp, and he’s got a small smirk on his face, and he looks so aggressive  _ (in a good way, because there isn’t a single bad bone in this boy’s body, despite contrary belief) _ , and he leans forward and steals a kiss from my lips before sitting up and stretching.

I can see the muscles in his back stretching through his shirt, and I can’t seem to look away. He knows this, and he laughs softly as he runs a hand through his silky black hair, and turns around to face me with a smile that says  _ I love you, Simon Snow. _

“Merlin and Morgana Simon, you’re gonna kill me if you keep looking at me like that,” Baz says, his tone light, and I sit up and run my fingers through his hair. It’s soft.

“You’re already dead, to some extent.” I kiss his cheek, and his arms snake around my waist. Baz has longer legs and a shorter torso, making us the same height when we sit down. It’s a luxury, really.

“Shut up, I can still die.” His voice has no malice, and the supposed weight of his words is non-existent, because we’re both glad he’s alive and kicking, vampire or not.

“Mm, but I’m the one destined to kill you, so don’t try and change your fate, Basil.” I laugh, and he rolls his eyes and pushes me away. 

“Don’t you have to meet Wellbelove today? She’s in town, isn’t she?” Baz rubs his eyes and a yawn escapes him, and his fangs pop out for just a second. I nod absentmindedly, leaning my head on his shoulder and nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

“What are you waiting for, love? Carry on.” His voice isn’t quite a whisper, but it isn’t quite at normal volume either. It’s slightly husky since he just woke up, and I feel myself falling in love all over again when he pushes me off him with his signature scowl. I can see the love in his eyes. 

He’s so alive, even if he doesn’t think so. Sometimes I think he’s more alive than me.

But he’ll never think so, because he’s Tyrannus Basilton Grimm Pitch, and he’d rather die before putting himself before me in his mind.

I love him, and he loves me, and the world isn’t ending anytime soon.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> i have a carry on discord server! it's called watford academy  
> join here!: https://discord.gg/Atkq5Nn  
> tumblr as usual is umbraxstaff (main), but my carry on sideblog (rarely used) is snow-grimm-pitch , just occasional carry on things when im bored  
> thanks for readin xx


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